Where Love Went Wrong
by calhoun91
Summary: Sam Evans, once a golden boy is now nothing more than a hollow cutout of the person he once was. When he receives something unexpected he is forced to look back on his past to find where a love he once had went wrong.
1. Prologue

This is just the introduction. This story is probably going to be a lot longer than the last one, which...I'm honestly not sure if that is a good or bad thing. If the writing doesn't suck too much then I'll say it's good. :P

It's short, but the actual first chapter is a lot longer. Hope you all enjoy.

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><p>He looked intently at the tattered leather-bound notebook before him and scribbled out various lines before replacing them with what he considered quality material, or what he thought looked like quality material. "And someday I'll fly far away, you'll see," he sang silently under his breath before writing down the various chord progressions. "This is pointless," he snapped before shoving his guitar away.<p>

"Whoa Sam, what'd it do to you?" Duncan shouted from the corner of the room. "You got mail, Buddy," he added before the blond could answer.

"If it is bills then throw them away. I can't pay them this month." The dark haired boy grinned while shaking his head and instead tossed a fancy envelope in his direction. "I've been working on a new song for us," he said while running his fingers over the back of the envelope. "This looks important. Maybe I've been invited to headline a famous tour. I'll leave you guys behind, for sure," Sam boasted.

"Not a chance," Duncan cackled. "We're part of the band, Sam. You can't go anywhere without us. Besides, no one outside of the locals know who we are. We're starving artists, Man. We've got the Bohemian crap down." Sam rolled his eyes before turning the envelope over. He felt a breath catch in his throat as the world began to spin. Duncan was immediately seated on the ripped couch beside him.

"I didn't know how to tell you," he offered while looking at Sam, trying to judge him for a reaction. The blond didn't know what kind of reaction to give. He felt his entire world collapsing around him. He imagined his heart would be breaking if he even owned it to begin with.

"You didn't know how to tell me?" Sam whispered, efficiently scaring the band's drummer. "You didn't know how to tell me?" He shouted before raising his head to look at his best friend, maybe former best friend. "You could have thrown it away, Duncan. I didn't have to know about this." In his distressed state he tossed the envelope onto the makeshift coffee table and ran his fingers through his messy hair.

"Sam, you totally did though. You've got to, I don't know, Man, get yourself together. It's been two and a half years now. Things change, life goes on. You have to move right on with it." Sam clenched his fists before reaching out to grab the offensive item. His grip was vice-like, almost threatening to rip the flimsy papers in half.

"Why didn't you throw it away?" Sam whispered again, his voice cracking and his resolve finally crumbling. He was glad that none of his band mates ever showed up on time. He couldn't fathom having to explain to them why he was sitting on their molded couch having an emotional breakdown. He was certain that his friends would question his sanity and then without hesitation throw him into a loony bin.

"You know why I didn't, Dude. All along I've thought you guys were the real deal. I figured maybe this would make you want to fight for things?" Sam shook his head, cleared his throat, and stood up. He stretched, popping the muscles of his back before wiping at his eyes. "Or maybe I thought it would help you to move on, for real this time. You don't fool anyone, Sam."

"I'm going to go, you know, read this in the bathroom or something." Duncan shook his head with worry. "Dude, I'm fine; I'm just caught off guard."

"You guys were together like four years, dude. My longest relationship lasted with a pet goldfish. He died after a week. I don't know what you're going through, but she was special. Even I could see that what you guys had was unique." Sam scoffed before pushing his way past the brunette and making his way to the small bathroom.

He gripped the sink and looked into the mirror and frowned at what he saw. Red rimmed eyes and a broken expression were something he hadn't worn in a long while. He had efficiently been able to make himself believe that he had been emotionless for the past year, but it never really worked. Somehow she would always creep into his mind; their epic love-story ended before it could even really begin.

He sat down on the rusty toilet and lightly picked the envelope open, not wanting to damage the small paper. Her hands had touched that very envelope: those hands that he had longed to hold for years. He pulled out the small invitation and traced his fingers over the fancy script Q of her name.

A sob escaped from the back of his throat as he continued to trace her name. That was supposed to be his name on the invitation with hers, not some Jesse St. James person. "Quinn St. James," he huffed, "it doesn't even have a nice ring to it," he finished off before grabbing a piece of toilet paper and blowing his nose on it.

A part of him wanted nothing more than to go after her and demand a reason for her having to cause him the heartache of having to see that damn piece of paper. She had to have known what it was going to do to him, seeing the wedding invitation. Was it even normal to invite an ex to a wedding? He watched the invitation tremble in his shaky hands before he threw the offensive materials into the sink. With as much strength as he could muster he turned the rusted knob and let the water fall over the envelope. The ink smeared together and formed incomprehensible blobs.

A knock on the dingy door brought him back into his world, the world where Quinn Fabray didn't exist anymore. "Dude, band is here. Are you ready to do these new songs or do I need to tell 'em to come back later?" Sam steeled his nerves and inhaled deeply.

"I'm coming out," he called back to Duncan before letting out a shaky breath. He tugged the door open and made his way to the practice room but was intercepted by his roommate.

"What's on your mind?" Sam gawked at the drummer, unsure of how to answer that. His best friend had been there all along, to see his highs and lows with the girl. Somehow he had the balls to ask him what was on his mind.

"It never got easier, you know," Sam whispered so that the other guys couldn't hear him. "I spent so many days trying to figure it out."

"Figure what out?" His best friend's voice whispered in a moment of genuine concern.

"Everything, Duncan," Sam replied while placing his hand over the young man's shoulder. "And to this very day I've yet to find out where our love went wrong." As soon as he let the words fall out he pushed past the drummer and made his way to his friends, wedding invitations and broken hearts long forgotten.

Or, at least, he pretended they were.

Three hours and too many bottles of beer later found him curled into the fetal position in his small twin-sized bed. His drunken stupor did nothing to hide away the scars and cuts of a love lost. His eyes would slowly shut only for him to see hazel eyes and locks of gold. He had long ago thrown all of her stuff: pictures, t-shirts, and anything in between into a box never to be opened again, but his memory was something that always would betray. He could never escape her.

A knock at his door brought him out of his weary state of mind. He pulled himself up to recline against the cracked wall and sighed when Duncan paced his way over. "Drinking won't make you forget, Sam," he stated while looking around at the empty bottles scattered amongst the rest of his mess.

"No," Sam agreed, "it won't." Duncan shook his head in mild disgust at Sam's antics before turning around to go back to his own room. "Nothing ever will," he added to himself before slinking back into a lying down position. He pulled the covers tightly around him and drifted off into a nightmare-filled slumber.


	2. Chapter 1

"Look, I really think you should give me a chance," he whispered while jutting his lower lip out. He had seen pouts work on other people in everyday problems; he only hoped that his carried the same charm. He chose to ignore the icy glare she was sending him. "I'm a good guy. I don't pressure girls into sex. I don't lie, cheat, or steal."

"No."

"Please," he begged. He considered getting down onto his hands and knees but knew that it certainly wouldn't convince the blonde girl.

"Your moral standards aren't my business. I was here first. Go to the end of the line," she snapped. Sam cried out in distress. He had been waiting months to ride the newest addition to Cedar Point and some attractive girl was not going to keep him from it.

"But, you weren't really here before me," he grumbled. "Fine, you won't let me get in front of you. That's cool. I will go to the end of the line though 'cause I don't want to be stuck behind you," he retorted before stepping away. He hoped the blonde would feel bad for upsetting him and then offer him her spot as a consolation prize.

"Okay," she cheerily responded before turning around. Sam scoffed before stepping out of his spot in the line to look at the end of the line. The only problem was he couldn't find it.

"Dang it," he whined. "I'm just going to go to Joe's and get a BLT," he stated to himself before turning to leave. A quick tug at his arm sent him flying backwards into a soft body. "What was that for?" He cringed at how immature he sounded.

"Do you, well, do you think you would mind if I joined you?" Sam's eyes widened. The girl who had refused to let him pass her now wanted to give up her slot to go eat. He thought about telling her off but was instead caught off guard by her actual appearance. To say that he hadn't truly looked at her until then would be an understatement. Wavy blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders while hazel eyes pierced into his soul.

"Not at all," his mouth uttered before he realized what he had truly said. A smile lit up her face as she grabbed his wrist and tugged him along the way. He regretted choosing to wear flip-flops almost immediately as he began to trip over his own feet. "You must really be hungry," Sam called to her back. In an instant she stopped her brisk pace causing the poor boy to stumble into her back. Up close to the pale skin he couldn't help but wish his lips were acquainted with the creamy nape of her neck. He instantly backed away, unsure of where _that _thought had come from.

"I like bacon," she offered as though it were the most obvious answer on the planet. Sam shrugged his shoulders, still in shock over his mind's reaction to the girl-the girl whose name he still didn't know. He sighed in relief upon seeing a tiki-style shack in the distance. The blonde was proving to be in somewhat better shape than he; or she was simply motivated by the bacon, he wasn't sure.

"Where do you want to sit?" He asked while scratching the back of his neck. He desperately wished they were inside as he felt the material of his shirt clinging to his body with his each and every move. "What about there?" He instantly blurted while pointing to a table seated directly in front of the large fan. The blonde smirked, nodded, and led the way.

He had the urge to pull her chair out for her, but she had sat down before he had even gotten a chance to get near the table. "What's your name?" He licked his chapped lips before shooting her a sly grin. His plans of holding out on his name changed the minute she jutted her lower lip out.

"So it works on me but not on you," he mumbled aloud. He would have to take tips from the blonde on how to pout efficiently. "My name is Sam," he replied before holding his hand out for the hazel eyed girl to take. She stared at him as though he had some sort of disease before quickly shaking his hand and then wiping hers on a napkin. "Er, what's your name?"

"Quinn," she replied before resting her elbows on the edge of the table. Sam sniggered, unable to help himself, but stopped instantly upon seeing the smoldering look sent his way. "What is so funny?"

"Isn't Quinn a guy's name? Did your parents not realize you were a girl or something?" The blonde's face turned a deep shade of red.

"Quinn can be a girl's name," she snapped defensively. Sam arched an eyebrow, pleased that he was getting on the girl's nerves. He thought of it as payback for stealing his spot in the line of the most awesome roller-coaster known to mankind.

"I've never met a girl Quinn," he was quick to respond. With that he leaned backwards and rested his arms behind his head. He noticed Quinn looking at his arms in wonderment. He felt like offering to flex his bicep for her but that was probably taking it too far. "I'm going to go order my food. What would you like me to get you?" She opened her mouth to reply. "No, wait, a BLT, I remember," he answered himself.

"And a Diet Coke," she called out to his retreating figure. Sam rolled his eyes. She wanted a sandwich full of greasy bacon but a diet coke? Girls confused him. He made his way to the cashier and sighed. "I need a number two with a Diet Coke," he stated while ignoring the odd looks the man gave him. "I also need a number eleven with a Dr. Pepper." He took the plastic number and two cups before waltzing back to the table.

"How much was it?" Quinn asked while digging through the small purse she carried around. Sam reached across the table and grabbed her wrist.

"It's on me," he said with a small smile. Quinn's cheeks tinted a pink color. "So, where are you from?" He questioned, hoping to get the stiff conversation rolling along. Quinn sighed.

"Lima," she whispered. Sam nodded. He had no idea where that was. His knowledge of Ohio extended to where his grandparents lived. "Where are you from?" He grinned before taking a small sip from his drink.

"I'm from Germantown." Quinn's face scrunched up in thought. "It's not in Ohio. Or, I don't think it is. The one I'm from isn't anyway," he added for clarification. A beat went by with the blonde gaping at him. "What?"

"Aren't you going to tell me where that is?" Sam covered his face with his hands in mortification. He had thought he had been being cool, only to end up looking like a buffoon.

"I'm from Tennessee. You've heard of Memphis, right?" Quinn nodded. "Germantown is a little bit outside of it. I grew up in Nashville, but a few years ago my mom got transferred to Germantown Memorial."

"Your mom is a doctor?"

"A nurse." Sam waited a few minutes. "A really good nurse. My mom is awesome," he continued on. "She always gives me my action figures back when Dad tries to throw them away." Quinn's hands lightly covered her mouth before a loud giggle was emitted. Sam flushed with embarrassment. His only consolation was that he was having lunch with a beautiful girl, and he would never have to see her again.

"You are very weird," Quinn informed him.

"You aren't the first girl to tell me that," Sam admitted with a sad smile. Instantly he felt a hand resting lightly on top of his.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing." He opened his mouth, wanting to say something back to her, but the waiter was before them throwing their food down at them. He instantly shut his jaw and looked at the burger sitting before him.

"This looks good," he commented before digging in. He noticed Quinn looking at him as though he had lost his mind. "Oh man, do you pray and stuff? I can spit my food back out or something," he explained in between chews. "No, that's gross." It then dawned on him that he was already being incredibly gross. He thickly swallowed the bits of the burger and looked at the blonde. "You can pray now."

"That's not it," she replied. "You aren't a caveman, Sam." Sam's face lit up.

"You sound like my mom!" Quinn groaned.

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><p>They were walking around the park simply enjoying the company of each other. Sam had to admit that the day had turned out to be a lot better than he had expected. The blonde squealed before tugging on his arm and pointing at a sign. "Let's do it," she yelled in excitement.<p>

"Do what?" He questioned while looking at the sign in confusion. He was aware that the blonde was watching as he struggled to read the damn sign. "I have really bad eye sight. I'm not wearing my contacts. What are we doing?" Quinn slapped the back of his head.

"What idiot goes to a park without their contacts in?" Sam grinned sheepishly before pointing to himself.

"Do you know what time it is?" He questioned before shaking his head lightly to get his bangs out of the way. The blonde rummaged through her small purse and pulled out a cell phone.

"Four thirty." Sam sighed. He had to leave in thirty minutes to go pick his brother up.

"Let's ride the Ferris wheel," he offered before tugging her toward the ride. "You aren't afraid of heights, right?"

"I'm a Cheerio, of course not," she shouted over the loud music. Sam arched an eyebrow.

"Because you're a cereal you aren't afraid of heights?" He was a weird guy, he knew, but he had never referred to himself as food. The blonde hung her head before laughing loudly.

Once seated together she leaned over, "The Cheerios are our school's cheerleading squad." Sam nodded, understanding the comment from earlier. "When do you go back to Tennessee," she questioned. Sam looked between them and noticed her hand resting against his leg. Would it be weird to hold her hand? He decided to go for it and prayed that being charged with sexual assault in Ohio didn't follow one to Tennessee.

"Friday," he replied before reaching for her hand. He smiled when she didn't pull away but beamed when she intertwined their fingers.

"You know this isn't leading to anything, right?" She asked, her voice hoarse and laced with an emotion he couldn't recognize.

"No, I know that," he replied before pulling his hand away. "Maybe we could be pen-pals or something though." She smiled.

"I'd like that," she replied. "I've always thought handwritten letters were special. Today everything is run by electronics." Sam swallowed.

"What's your last name?" He wondered out loud, thankful for the change of subject. "I know your name is Quinn and that you are a cheerleader. You like bacon. Your best friend is supposed to be here but she ran off with her girlfriend?" Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Fabray, what's yours?"

"So is mine," Sam exclaimed, rocking the cart lightly. Quinn's eyes widened in shock.

"That isn't a common last name," she replied.

"Long-lost relatives," he smirked. Quinn's face paled. "No, mine is Evans." The blonde punched his shoulder roughly before leaning over.

"Sam Evans sounds like an asshole," she whispered into his ear. He ignored the chills that instantly spread over his body and watched as she leaned back into her spot with confidence. He scoffed before leaning over here, mirroring her previous position. He trailed his fingers over her slender arm before pressing his lips near her ear. He could smell her hair and immediately regretted his decision to mock her. The strawberry smell was causing him to go into a sensory overload. He pulled himself together before having to do something drastic-like jumping over the ledge and dying.

"Well," he whispered, voice low, "Quinn Fabray sounds like a man," he finished before blowing lightly over her ear and pulling away. He wasn't certain what possessed him to do it but the way her eyes darkened instantly made him very happy that he did. "I gotta admit something," he stated with finality. "I've been lying. I think that Quinn is a very pretty name. It suits you." The blonde looked away for a moment. The ride quickly stopped in midair, interrupting the moment and effectively ruining any courage he had of doing anything slightly romantic for the girl. He looked out at the water in the distance and sighed. "Will you take a picture with me?"He didn't wait for an answer before pulling out his cell phone. He held it with his right hand while his left arm snuck around Quinn's shoulders. She shuddered causing him to pull her in tighter. "Okay, one, two, three," he exclaimed before capturing the moment. He pulled it back and looked at the outcome and smiled. "Thanks," he whispered.

"Are you going to send it to me?" Sam stuck his tongue out.

"No, I don't want you to have my number, you stalker." Quinn rolled her eyes for what seemed to be the umpteenth time that day.

"Fine, let's just take another picture." Sam agreed and instantly resumed the same position. The blonde held the phone out in front of them and counted down. Before he lost his nerves he jutted over into her personal space and planted a messy kiss to her cheek.

Realization of what he had done dawned on him. She pulled the phone back to look at the picture and blushed before showing it to Sam. He felt like patting himself on the back; they looked like a hot couple. He waited for Quinn to reprimand him for kissing someone he met only hours before but it never came. Instead the ride re-started itself.

Minutes later he found himself safely on land and walking towards the exit. He wasn't ready to leave, but he knew that his family was waiting for him as it was. He stood awkwardly after they reached their starting point and sighed. "I guess this is goodbye?" He held his hand out once again but was instead given a light hug. He smiled, somewhat intoxicated by the girl's scent.

"Give me your address," she replied, intent on having a pen-pal such as Sam. He swallowed thickly before chuckling.

"You might be a serial killer." A glare was all it took for him to spring into action. The blonde handed him a pen and piece of paper before looking at him expectantly. "Why don't you give me your address instead and I'll write you?" He questioned before awkwardly shoving the two items back. The blonde arched a sculptured brow before telling him to turn around. She instantly used his back to prop the paper against and began to write her contact information down.

Sam smiled upon being handed over the small piece of paper. "I'll write you when I get back. It'll be cool," Sam informed. He was reluctant to go but he knew if he was late to pick up his brother then his grandmother would slap him, or worse, feed him.

He couldn't help but feel like he was leaving something important behind, but with a final wave and a smile he walked toward the exit with one Quinn Fabray on his mind.

He hadn't even minded that much that he didn't get to ride any cool rides or go to the water park.


	3. Chapter 2

Sorry it's taken me so long to update. The internet at my house went out. The people had to mail us a new box and stuff. It took forever. I'm also sorry I didn't get to reply to most of the people who reviewed. I appreciate you guys. :)

Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!

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><p>The trip home had been long. They opted to fly rather than drive because, well, when your family had money then you had money to spare.<p>

The entire flight was filled with thoughts of a hazel eyed girl. He pulled his billfold out and grabbed the receipt that Quinn had written her address on. He was eager to write her, but he didn't want to seem too incredibly eager. It would be nothing short of embarrassing if she received a letter not even four days after their meeting.

He traced his fingers over her name and sighed knowing that what he was seeing didn't do justice to her beautiful script. He groaned in frustration before putting the piece of paper back into the billfold. "What's wrong?" A small voice asked from beside him.

"Nothing much, Kid," Sam replied while patting his little brother on the head. "Just thinking about Grandma Kathy's food." He chuckled at the look of disgust on his brother's face.

"Is it coming up again?" Stevie asked with concern. "'Cause that happens to me a lot," he admitted with a whisper. Sam tilted his head back and laughed loudly before being reprimanded by the other cabin members. He rolled his eyes playfully and took an ear bud out before handing it to the carbon copy of himself. Stevie accepted it eagerly, excited to share something with his older brother. Sam pulled his iPod out of his pants pocket and hit play before letting his eyes doze off.

He awoke later by a vicious jab to his side. He slowly opened one eye and glanced around before shutting it again, ready to get back to sleep. The jabs persisted though, successfully bringing him out of his slumber. "What?" He groaned.

"We're about to land," was all that was whispered. For a moment he was confused but as his mind began to function properly it all clicked into place.

"Rock, paper, scissors, or thumb war?" Sam asked with a cocky grin. "Pick what you want; we both know I'm gonna kick your ass. Err, butt," he corrected. The little boy grinned cheekily and easily accepted his older brother's challenge. Sam sighed in relief upon realizing he had taken Stevie's mind off of landing. The boy tried to pretend he wasn't afraid of anything but girls, but planes definitely held a second place to the females.

He rolled his eyes playfully at the way his brother's face lit up at the prospect of challenging the oldest child. "Your thumb is bigger than my entire hand," Stevie exclaimed. Sam was somewhat upset that his brother hadn't chosen a thumb war simply because he knew he could win that way. He wasn't so sure he could win a rousing game of rock, paper, scissors.

"How about I let you play with my phone instead?" Sam questioned. He knew his brother would take the bait simply because it was cool to play with your older brother's things. He pulled the iPhone out of his pockets and tossed it as his brother whose face lit up.

He turned to look out the window and watched the white clouds passing by. They reminded him of cotton candy and almost immediately his stomach began to growl. "Hey, what's this?" His brother's voice brought him out of his hunger induced thoughts. He turned away from the window and looked at the little blond boy with a curious look. Stevie handed the phone over and he prayed that it wasn't anything inappropriate.

Instead he was met with the smiling faces of him and Quinn at Cedar Point. He smiled wistfully at the thought of the blonde. He was certain that she would never think of him again, but he had a hunch that he wouldn't forget her as easily. "This is a girl I met at the park yesterday while you were with Mom and Dad."

"Is she your girlfriend?" Sam bit his lip to keep from laughing at the boy beside him. Sure, his little brother got on his nerves most of the time but the kid had his moments.

"No, we don't know each other well enough to be boyfriend and girlfriend," Sam explained. Stevie nodded before grabbing the phone to look at the picture again.

His brother's face lit up, "she can be my girlfriend then," he exclaimed. Sam shook his head in disbelief.

"What happened to you not liking any girls but Mom?" Stevie looked deep in thought before he looked down at Sam's phone again.

"Well, this girl is pretty." Sam smiled, for once willing to agree with his brother on something.

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><p>The moment he step foot back on his own land he inhaled deeply. He had missed the smell of things in the south. He was aware that people would have thought him insane if they knew he thought places had distinct smells but he did.<p>

When he made his way back into his house he immediately went to computer and pulled Word up. He knew where Quinn stood on old fashion letters versus e-mails, but he was certain this was only semi-cheating. He was still going to mail it in an envelope with a stamp. Real life didn't come with spell-checks or auto-corrects like his computer.

He began to type furiously away, ignoring all of the glaring red squiggle lines and instead letting the computer fix his mistakes. He ceased his writings to think about the blonde girl. He couldn't help but wonder what she was doing at that exact moment. He wanted to flatter himself and believe she was thinking about him too, but he had a feeling that a girl like that had plenty to do. She probably had a boyfriend who was out of town for a wrestling convention that weekend. She had been forced to bring her lesbian friend to the park. The lesbian girl left Quinn behind to get her mack on with another lesbian girl or something like that. That left Quinn all along. Enter Sam Evans.

Well. He guessed it didn't really bother him that he was a substitute wrestler boyfriend/lesbian best friend for the day.

He turned his attention back to the screen and began to pound his fingers against the keyboard even harder. Happy with the outcome of the letter, he printed the paper. Once the printer had spit it out into his hands he looked over it again.

He didn't want to have to ask his mom to read it to check for mistakes but he also didn't want Quinn to think he was insane. He laid the paper on his desk and went over to his bed. He was sleepy and intended to take a manly nap.

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><p>"I will give you ten dollars to re-write this for me," Sam stated, slamming a ten dollar bill down onto the metal frame of the desk. "Without making fun of me for what it says or repeating anything I wrote to anyone." Green eyes met confused blue. "I met this girl while I was in Ohio-"<p>

"Did you get in her pants?" Was immediately asked, much to Sam's chagrin. He shook his head in the negative before continuing to explain his plight.

"No, man, I didn't. Anyway, she wanted to be like…pen pals," he whispered while glancing around their homeroom nervously. "I just need you to re-write this so I can send it off. Please, Devin," Sam pleaded. His best friend rolled his eyes before snatching the piece of paper away and reading over it. Sam could tell that the dark haired boy was trying not to laugh but it still offended him.

"Sure, I'll do it," Devin replied before grabbing the money away and shoving it in his pants pocket. "this should be enough to take me and my girl out for some lunch." Sam arched an eyebrow.

"Where to? McDonald's?" Devin nodded. "Whatever, just write this and get it back to me by the end of third block. I want to mail it off today." Devin rolled his eyes.

"Is this girl hot?" Sam nodded before pulling out his cell phone with pride. He may or may not have made the background to his iPhone the only picture he had of Quinn. He knew it was kind of creepy, but he figured no harm, no foul. She wouldn't find out. "She is smokin'," Devin shouted. Sam flushed with embarrassment before turning around to face the front.

First and second block passed without much to occupy his attention. Instead he found himself wondering what Quinn was doing; whether or not she was having fun at school. Most people didn't enjoy going back to school after Spring Break though. He knew he didn't anyway.

Third block found Devin standing at his desk awkwardly. He tossed a piece of notebook paper at him lightly before moving back to the other side of the room. Sam sincerely hoped that none of the girls around thought he and Devin were passing notes to each other. That would be weird.

He pulled the letter open and smiled. It was a handwritten letter for Quinn Fabray. And she would be none the wiser.

Of course he would have to get Devin to continue writing her back for him. He had neglected to tell his friend that. He pulled out a pen from his backpack and signed his name at the end. He could at least contribute that much to the letter.

He would get his mom to address the envelope for him. There was no way the mail people would be able to read his chicken scratch.

Pulled out of his thoughts by his teacher's voice he looked around the room in confusion. Everyone was staring at him and he was unsure of the reason. "Samuel," Mrs. Donahue droned. "You were called to the office. Get your things and go," she explained slowly. He grinned cheekily at the woman before putting his notebooks back into his backpack and trudging out of the room.

He knew he couldn't be in trouble. He had only just gotten back from Spring Break. There wasn't possibly enough time for him to have done anything wrong. It was probably something to do with his upcoming senior year. The school probably wanted a donation from the Bank of Evans or something.

He pushed open the office doors once he had reached his destination and was met with the smiling face of the secretary. "Does Mr. Jackson want to see me?" Sam asked, praying he wouldn't have to deal with their principal. Mrs. Mills, the secretary shook her head.

"No, Mrs. Williams wants to," she replied while pointing to the door located several feet towards his right. The school guidance counselor wanted to meet with him? He shrugged his shoulders and made his way over to the older woman's room before entering. She motioned for him to shut the door behind him. He threw his backpack to the ground before looking at the woman expectantly.

"Sit down, Sam," she reprimanded. He nodded before easing himself down into the uncomfortable chair. He was certain his butt was going to be bruised after his visit with the counselor. "How are you doing today, Mr. Evans?"

"Good," he replied with a light shrug of his shoulders. "I'm ready for May to get here though," he explained in excitement.

"Sam, your parents and I have been talking…" Sam drowned the lady out. Anything that involved parents being called up to the school meant something bad. "Your grades are suffering. With your last semester averages combined with this semester, I'm afraid you don't have enough time to pull them up."

"Wait, what?" he interrupted in confusion.

"You'll be classified as a junior again," she explained with a sad smile. "There's nothing wrong with that. You're doing amazing for a boy with your learning disabilities. That doesn't mean the rest of the school thinks you should move forward though. Not passing is still not passing, Sam, even for you." He felt tears began to sting at his eyes. If he didn't pass then it meant he wouldn't be graduating next year.

"Is there any chance that I could though?" he questioned with worry. "Graduate on time, I mean." Mrs. Williams looked conflicted. He knew what that meant. She was trying to figure out how to let him down easily.

"It's possible, yes," she explained. "But I don't see it happening, Sam. We can get you tutors again if you'd like, but your parents believe that it would be best that you stay back a grade." He groaned.

"This isn't kindergarten. You can't just decide that you think I would be better off failing a grade. That isn't cool," he shouted. He was certain that any students in the hall could hear him yelling, but he didn't care.

"I'm sorry, Sam…"

* * *

><p>A whiff crossed her path. She sighed. Was it normal to be able to smell a boyfriend before actually seeing them? She had commented once, yes just once, on how Finn had smelled nice one day. Since then he had decided against taking regular showers and instead showered in cologne.<p>

It was an atrocity against humanity.

She felt his heavy arms drop against her light frame. Her shoulders felt like buckling with the weight he was putting on her. She could be like Rachel Berry and explain that it was a metaphor for the stress he put on her with their relationship.

But she was not Rachel Berry.

She actually liked Finn, kind of. He was better than her last boyfriend who had insisted every three minutes that they needed to be getting their "mack on." She quickly dumped him deciding she didn't want a boyfriend who reminded her of Santana Lopez.

Finn was also kind of dense. She could manipulate him into doing anything she wanted. Admittedly that didn't make her the nicest person around but high school wasn't a place to be nice. It was a place to be on top. It was a place to survive by any means necessary. She wasn't going to end up like JewFro or Suzy Pepper because she wanted to be nice to everyone, or in their case just plain weird.

"Do you want to go to Puck's party tonight?" Finn questioned with excitement. She sighed. He always got excited whenever Puck threw a party. He thought it meant it would be the night they slept together. Because yes, captain of the Cheerios was still very much a virgin. She also planned to keep it that way. Whether or not it was because she didn't want to sleep with Finn…ever was something she chose to keep to herself.

She knew it was wrong of her to lead the boy on but she hadn't found anyone that truly piqued her interest. Finn Hudson was captain of the football team, albeit a losing team, but he was still popular. It just seemed normal that the captain of the cheerleaders and captain of the football team would date. He respected her wishes most of the time. He treated her with respect, again most of the time. Why rock the boat? It wasn't as if she had any other suitors to choose from.

That isn't to say she couldn't have any guy at that lame school. She simply didn't want any of them. In terms of being a nice guy, Finn was probably the top of that list.

"I don't think so, Finn," she explained with a sad smile. His face fell but instantly he shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

"That's okay. We can just go to Breadstixs, you and me," he replied. She pretended to massage her neck, purposefully ridding her shoulders of his arm.

"That sounds nice, sure." He smiled, pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, and then continued down the hallway. He had glee practice.

The downfall of dating Finn was that he refused to quit that damn club of rejects and misfits. His popularity hadn't taken a hit, but she still feared the day that it would. She refused to go down with him.

She went to the Cheerio's locker room and grabbed her gym bag before making her way out to the parking lot. Practice had been canceled due to Coach Sylvester's excursions behind enemy lines. She wasn't sure what it meant but it probably had something to do with the Spanish teacher William Schuester.

She clambered into her car and flipped the ignition before letting her head rest against the steering wheel. The blonde was physically and mentally tired of being on top of the pyramid. She refused to let herself slip though. She could pretend to be in love with Finn for two more years. She felt like crying as she thought about spending two more years as the girlfriend of Finn Hudson. Surely something would give before they graduated.

With that final thought she took off in the general direction of the Fabray mansion. Sure, she lived there but it wasn't truly a home. If anything it was just another way for her parents to keep up appearances. When she was younger she wondered why her sister had immediately run off the second she graduated college.

Now Quinn wondered why her sister had waited that long to run off.

With a sigh she killed off her engine and pulled the key out of the ignition. She grabbed her Cheerios bag and quickly made her way inside. "Mom? Dad?" She called out to the empty house. With a shrug of her shoulders she made her way to the kitchen.

After pulling out a bottle of water from the fridge and a banana from the counter she made her way over to the table. She reached for the magazine and sole envelope left out from the mail. She looked at the sloppy envelope from afar before her interest was gathered. She squealed lightly in excitement upon seeing the name written in the corner.

Her eyes raked over the various things that Sam Evans had to say. His penmanship was sloppy but it was still better than Finn's. He explained about how much fun he had with her their one day together. He wanted to make their picture together his profile picture on Facebook, but he didn't want to offend her. He then went on to write that if she wanted to she could add him. He was the Sam Evans with a picture of Darth Vader.

Sam Evans was a nerd. She had learned that in the few hours she had spent with him at Cedar Point. He would have been eaten alive had he gone to McKinley High. Somehow though, she found herself feeling more excited at the thought of writing Sam back than at the idea of her having to go out on a date with her boyfriend later on that night.


	4. Chapter 3

Moving things along. :) Hope my few readers enjoy the chapter! :P Kind of fast paced but if I didn't move on with it then the story was seriously going to be 400 chapters. Nobody wants that!

Leave some feedback if you wish! Otherwise just read and hopefully enjoy!

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

I do own the mistakes though. There are bound to be a lot.

* * *

><p>"I was thinking maybe you could babysit your brother and a few of his friends tomorrow night. We'll pay you well, Samuel," his mother's voice broke him from his sleep. He grunted and rolled over, not ready to start the day off just yet. He had gotten into a knockdown-drag out fight the night before over his grades again. He hadn't exactly felt like making nice with his parents at such an early hour. He opened his eyes long enough to glance at the alarm clock on his bedside table. Eight thirty in the morning was too early, he knew that much. "Honey, you need to wake up. Your father is already at work, and I'm about to head in. You have to watch your siblings." He sighed before shooting up out of the bed.<p>

"Fine," he grumbled while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He picked up some clothes off his floor before giving them a whiff. After deeming them clean he made his way to the bathroom, ready to take a shower to start off the day.

Twenty minutes later he found himself sitting at his computer desk scrolling through various websites. He sighed in dejection upon realizing he hadn't gotten the part of Jake Sully in an RP group. "Whatever," he mumbled to himself before going to Facebook.

His eyebrows drew together in confusion upon seeing a new friend request. He quickly clicked on the button and waited for his slow internet to tell him who was trying to add him. His face lit up as soon as he saw the Q of her name. Without hesitation he added the girl and began to look at her profile with enthusiasm.

At first glance he noticed her profile picture was that of her in a red cheerleading uniform. He felt his jaw drop at the body before him. He gathered that she was popular. She had more than half a dozen wall posts from that day alone. He shrugged his shoulders before deciding to look over her page.

At the last minute her relationship status caught his eye. He wasn't sure why it upset him to know that she was in a relationship. She hadn't acted very taken their day together at the amusement park, but he supposed she didn't owe him anything. He clicked on the guy's name and let it direct him to the boy's profile. Sure, it was kind of stalkerish. He just wanted to know what that guy looked like. "What am I doing?" He mumbled before returning to Quinn's page.

He wondered if she was looking at his profile at that moment. In a moment of panic he looked at his profile to make sure nothing inappropriate was around.

Then again she had a boyfriend she was probably out with. Or maybe she was asleep like a normal person would be.

* * *

><p>"Honey, are you on that MySpace thing again?"<p>

"No," Quinn replied dryly. "No one uses MySpace anymore, Mom," she added before clicking through various pictures of the blonde boy she had met the previous week. "It's Facebook."

"Are you talking to Finn? He hasn't been over in about a week, Sweetie. Are you two okay?" Judy asked with concern. Quinn sighed. Her mother meant well, she guessed, but it was never fun to have a mother meddle in her teenage daughter's love life.

"We're fine, Mother," Quinn stressed. Judy chuckled before grabbing the dirty clothes out of the hamper and then exiting the blonde's bedroom.

Sam had accepted her friend request only minutes before. She hadn't been waiting around for it or anything, she just knew. She had read over his profile information in no less than five seconds. It had upset her that he had nothing written in his information. She wanted to know more about him. She felt giddy at the thought of him being single though despite the fact that he lived in a different state.

He was available for chat she noticed, but he hadn't engaged in a conversation with her. Maybe it meant he didn't want to talk. He had, however, accepted her friend request so he obviously still wanted to talk to her.

**Finn Hudson:  
><strong>Bayb, y r u up allredy?

Quinn sighed. She couldn't really ignore her own boyfriend, as much as she sometimes wanted to.

**Quinn Fabray:  
><strong>Cheerios practice at six. Why are you up?

**Finn Hudson:  
><strong>Havnt ben 2 bed yet! :DDD

**Quinn Fabray:  
><strong>You should go to sleep then.

**Finn Hudson:  
><strong>Ur so rite bayb! Stix l8r? Pic u up at 730. Luv u!

She sighed. Her boyfriend was a complete idiot. She had known it for a while, but everyday he only proved himself more and more.

**Quinn Fabray:  
><strong>Bye, you too.

She quickly searched the list of online friends for Sam's name only to find that he had already signed off. She sighed in frustration before slamming her laptop shut.

The blaring of her phone brought her out of her Sam thoughts. She instantly maneuvered her way over to her nightstand and picked the cell up only to find that it was Santana calling. She groaned before pressing the answer key. "Hello, Santana," Quinn dryly remarked.

"Lima Heights is boring today and Britts is out of town. You and I's is going to Breadstix for lunch." Quinn huffed in frustration.

"Finn is taking me there tonight, sorry." Santana laughed, clearly unimpressed.

"Don't care. It's not like you wants to go out with Finnconpetent anyways. I'll pick you up at eleven."

"Okay, Santana," the blonde retorted, not even bothering to comment on her dig at Finn.

* * *

><p>"So, when are you going to break up with the walking, talking Tree Man?" Santana questioned in between mouthfuls of breadsticks. Quinn felt her stomach turn at the rate the Latina was eating her food.<p>

"I'm not breaking up with Finn, San," the blonde whispered sadly. Santana arched an eyebrow but said nothing else. "Do you remember that day we went to Cedar Point with Sylvester's tickets?" Santana nodded. "I met this guy there…"

"Was he hots?" Quinn blushed. "Why didn't you introduce me to him?" Santana whined.

"Because you and Brittany were getting your 'Sapphic pleasure' on as Berry put it." Santana looked down at her plate of food and mumbled incoherent things. She pulled her phone out and went to her photo gallery before clicking on the picture of Sam and her. She looked at it multiple times throughout the day, but she wasn't going to tell Santana that. She handed the phone over to her somewhat best friend and waited for the Latina's reaction. A stamp of approval from Santana…didn't really mean anything, she realized.

"That guy has the dick sucking lips, Sweetie," Santana replied in a sickeningly sweet tone. "He's gay, Boo Boo." Quinn was offended. She had seen the way he swooned and fawned over her. There was no way he was gay.

"He isn't gay," Quinn grumbled before lurching for her phone. After successfully stealing it from Santana she looked at the picture one last time before slipping the cellular device back into her purse.

"Cute," Santana sarcastically retorted before digging into a fresh batch of breadsticks. "This is great, really," she added after swallowing a rather large chunk of bread.

"What are you talking about, Santana?" Quinn questioned with an arched eyebrow and a pointed look. Santana simply raised her own eyebrow as to challenge her cheerleading captain. On the field Quinn had power over her, but outside of Cheerios? Not so much.

"You like this boy more than you like your own boyfriend. That's really sad, Q," Santana stated with a gleam in her eyes. "Does the Eifel Tower know that you're cheating on him with Mick Jagger?"

"That's it, I'm leaving," Quinn snapped while reaching for her purse. A growl emitted from the girl before her sent her back into the booth. "Why do you have to be such a bitch? I just wanted my _friend _to listen to my problems." Santana relented.

"If you don't like Finn then why are you with his dumb ass?" Quinn opened her mouth to respond but decided against it. She felt her phone vibrating from within her purse and sighed. She really hoped it wasn't Finn calling her. "Who is it?"

"Nosy, much?" She replied while pulling the phone back out. "It's just an e-mail from Facebook. Probably one of the freshman Cheerios confused over the master cleanse." Santana snorted. The blonde quickly checked the e-mail only to find that it wasn't from a Cheerio. It wasn't even from anyone near McKinley.

She felt the corners of her lips trying to tug into a smile, but she knew that Santana would catch her. The Hispanic girl was like a relentless bloodhound when it came to finding things out.

_Quinn-thanks for adding me. :-) Also, you look very pretty in your profile picture.  
>-Sam<em>

She was thankful that he hadn't posted the comment on her wall but opted to send a message. She read over it once more before sliding the phone back into her purse. "What are you smiling at?"

"Nothing," was all that the blonde replied with.

* * *

><p>He really couldn't believe his eyes. The hottest teenage girl in the universe had just given him her number. Sure, she had a boyfriend and lived miles away, but it counted as a victory in his book. He didn't want to text her immediately and seem over-eager, but he wanted to talk to her. "Stevie," Sam shouted, praying his brother could hear him from down the hall. He heard the pitter patter of footsteps and smiled.<p>

"Yep?" The little boy responded with a small smile.

"Will you type this number in my phone?" He asked while holding his phone out for the boy. Stevie nodded eagerly before hopping into Sam's lap and looking at the number on his computer screen. Within a few seconds the boy handed the cell phone back to Sam and slid back onto the ground. "You sure this is right?" Stevie nodded. "Thank you, Buddy."

"Welcome," he replied before gallivanting back out of the room. He decided that he'd rather seem over-eager than uncaring and cocky. He quickly made his way to the new contact and hit the button allowing a text message to be brought up.

With a quick flick of a button and the green light from the phone he spoke," Hey, it's Sam." He watched in amazement as the phone instantly typed out what he had just said. Without a second doubt or hesitation he pressed send. No more than two minutes later he had an incoming text.

**Sam? Sam who?**

He rolled his eyes playfully and carefully typed out his own response. He was certain that he could handle writing Evans after all.

_**Evans. :( yu dn rembr?**_

He nervously waited as the minutes ticked by. "Sam, you've outdone yourself this time," he commented to his cell phone background before throwing the mentioned item onto his bed. He contemplated going to sleep but knew if his father came home from work to find that he hadn't really been looking over his brother and sister. In fact, he hadn't seen his sister all morning.

That last thought had him scurrying out of his bedroom and down the hall to where his sister hopefully was. He knocked lightly on the white door with a pink Barbie sticker that had somehow yet to be removed before pushing his way inside. "Stace?" He questioned while poking his head in.

"Sammie," the small blonde girl whined from under the covers. He arched an eyebrow and stifled a laugh. "I was watching _the Princess and the Frog_ but I got scared," she whispered. He looked at up at the television in the corner of the room which had been paused.

"What are you scared of, Stacy?" The little blonde sighed as though Sam were unintelligent for not knowing the correct answer. "You're afraid of the shadow man?" A nod. "I don't blame you. But it's just a cartoon, you know," he whispered while sliding into the bed beside her.

"I wanted to see the end though," she whined. Sam looked thoughtful before wrapping his arms around the blonde girl.

"How about I stay in here and watch the movie with you? I'll make sure the bad guys stay away." Stacey smiled before grasping for the tiny remote and handing it over to her big brother. Sam sighed. He knew he had better be getting cool big brother points.

* * *

><p>"Sam?" His eyelids fluttered open at the sound of his name being called. It was his mother, but she sounded somewhat panicked. The door to Stacy's room flew open, shocking him somewhat. He eased himself up and followed his mother out of the room once she beckoned him with her finger.<p>

"What's up, Mom?" He questioned once they were in the safety of the kitchen. He grabbed an apple out of the fridge before heading over to the sink to wash it off. "Something happen at work?" She shook her head before plopping down onto an island stool.

"Your grandfather is sick." Sam held his breath and waited for his mother to continue. "Your grandmother called your father earlier and told him the doctor wasn't expecting him to live more than six months."

Sam didn't know what to feel. He wasn't close with his grandfather. They had never truly lived around each other. He'd spent the majority of his life in Tennessee while his dad's father had been in Ohio with the rest of his dad's family. It seemed odd that they had just gone to visit the couple over Spring Break. They never visited before. He assumed the older man's sickness wasn't something his family was just finding out about.

"That really sucks, Mom," Sam finally managed to get out. "Is Dad, you know, okay?" She reached across the island and let her hand rest across his forearm. "What is it?"

"He thinks that maybe we should uproot and go live there for your next year of school." Sam's shaken mood instantly dissipated into an angry mood.

"That's too bad, Mom," Sam shouted, earning a hush from his mother. "You said we weren't moving again."He scowled but felt better at the fact that his mother had the decency to look somewhat ashamed. "You promise," he whispered.

"Sweetie, I know, but your father wants this. We need to be supportive of him. I know that you don't really know Grandpa Bill, but this is going to be your last chance to get to know him. Don't let your father down."

"Kind of like you guys let me down?" He snapped, pulling away from his mother's comforting touch. "You guys always said that just because I was different than other kids didn't mean I would suffer from it. You guys said that no one else was any better than me, remember?" His mother was shocked; he could see it written on her face. He had never yelled at his mother like he was in that moment, but the emotions had already surfaced like a volcano erupting. "But you guys are keeping me behind a grade so I can't graduate with my friends. That's kind of messed up, right?"

"Sam, keep your voice down. Your brother and sister are asleep." He scoffed.

"You know what? Move to Ohio. I don't care. Why did I think this time we were actually staying around?" With that he ran towards the front door and made his way out of the house.

He wished he had someone to talk to, someone who wouldn't judge him for his problems or jump on his parent's side simply because they had seniority over him.

He wished he could talk to Quinn.

But damn it if he hadn't left his cell phone in his room hours before.


	5. Chapter 4

Short chapter is short. The internet at the dorm hasn't been in the past week so I've kind of just been stuck doing nothing.

Enjoy reading!

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><p>He had gone to the local park, unsure of where else he could go. He knew it was probably only six o'clock at the latest, but he didn't know much of anything else. Once again it appeared that brains weren't on his side. Had he been thinking he would have grabbed car keys or something. Instead he was perched on the swing sets listening to the distant sound of a softball game being played. He pushed himself slightly and enjoyed the small breeze of air given to him from the force of his push.<p>

He wondered if he had been in the wrong over the way he treated his mom. He knew he was simply because disrespecting the old people was against the law or something, but he hadn't been able to help it. The anger festered up inside him and rather than letting it all blow over he blew up. How many times had they been forced to move before because his mom had been offered a better job at a greater hospital? How many times had his parents told him they would never be moving again only to have the rug pulled out from beneath him? How many times had he been made fun of at each different school for his learning disabilities? He sighed. They had been in Germantown for two years. The longest they had been anywhere actually. He was certain that he was finally going to stay somewhere long enough for him to actually graduate high school.

Of course not only was that not true, instead of having one year of school left he had two because of his inability to comprehend anything. He often wondered why God punished him so. It was His fault that he had such a terrible life. His parents had money, sure. He had the nicest clothes and the finest electronics. He could have anything he wanted whenever he wanted, but it had yet to make him happy. It never bought him an education. It never made him well-liked.

Maybe moving could be a good thing though. He liked to find the good in all things. What was in Ohio for him though he would never know. He could be closer to Cedar Point and maybe finally get to ride that damn ride that Quinn had kept him from.

All of the anger and confusion he had felt ceased to exist in that moment. He had completely forgotten about one of the finer points of being in Ohio permanently. He wondered what part of Ohio his father wanted to move to. Was it really his fault that he didn't know where his own grandparents lived? It wasn't his fault that they had only visited them once. He knew they lived out in the country, miles away from anything.

He shuddered as he thought about his luck at being a farmhand.

He jumped out of the swings and ran towards the general direction of his house. He had to get back to his mom to find out about anything and everything he could.

But first he had a phone call to make.

* * *

><p>His mom and dad both just kind of stared at him when he crept inside the house. He didn't know what possessed him to treat everything like a spy mission. It was probably seven o'clock and the family would be eating-not asleep. "Sam, nice of you to finally join us," his father's voice boomed. He nodded before pushing past the group. "Samuel, we're eating as a family. Sit down," he shouted.<p>

His mother must have told his dad that he had been an ass earlier. He really wanted to go get his phone though. He had a feeling that running to his bedroom in the moment would only result in him having a sore butt.

"Yes sir," he meekly responded before sitting down in his usual space opposite of Stevie. "How was work?" He questioned while helping himself to the various foods on the table. He hadn't really asked either of his parents in particular. He was just asking whichever person happened to answer.

"Good," his father replied. "You know how much fun it is to sit behind the desk all day telling people what to do." Sam nodded before taking a bite out of the meatloaf.

"I guess so," Sam replied after swallowing thickly. "Where will you work when we move?" In an instant the entire room filled with an awkward tension. He could hear Stevie asking his parents what was going on. "Oops," he whispered lamely. "I think I'm going to take my food to my room while you two talk to these two," he explained while pointing at his brother and sister.

"You're lucky I don't send you upstairs without food," his father growled, but the twinkle in his eyes let Sam know he wasn't in trouble…for once. He nodded before grabbing the plate and his drink and rushing upstairs, taking two at a time.

Behind closed doors he shoved his plate on his desk and pounced on the bed after seeing his iPhone. He had several missed calls from various friends but only one text message. He chose to ignore the message in favor of making a call himself. He quickly scrolled through various contacts before settling on the correct one.

A ring. He shuffled anxiously. Another ring. Then another. Finally someone answered. He heard shuffling on the other end of the line and waited for something-anything. "Hello," a gruff voice questioned. He pulled his phone away from his ear and looked at the screen in confusion.

"Wrong number," Sam offered with a sigh.

"Give me the phone back," he heard from the other party. His ears perked up the feminine voice. A few more seconds passed by with more shuffling but finally things evened out. "Hello," the breathy voice whispered.

"Hello," Sam tried. He waited but nothing else was said. "This is Quinn, right?"

"Obviously," Quinn replied in annoyance. "Who is this?" Sam deflated. So much for him being memorable.

"It's Sam. This is a mistake on my part. My bad," he replied before hanging the phone up. That hadn't really gone well at all, he realized with a sigh. Despite the fact that he was kind of upset at the turn out of the evening he was still hungry. He readied himself to get back up and go to his desk but the cell phone in his hand began to ring.

He ignored the excitement churning in his stomach and instead forced himself to calm down. With a final nod to himself he answered the phone, "hello?"

"Sam, I'm sorry," came the feminine voice he had only just been talking to. "Finn answered my phone, but I told him to go home."

"Oh, okay," Sam lamely replied. "That's cool."

"Finn is my boyfriend," Quinn whispered. Sam sighed. He already knew that. He couldn't tell her that though because she would know he was a creepy kid who stalked her friends.

"That's also cool." He tried to sound nonchalant. It came off sounding pained.

"I want to break up with him," she retorted. Sam internally high fived himself but knew that it didn't really make much of a difference.

"What part of Ohio do you live in?" He questioned, trying to get the conversation back on topic. He heard the steady breathing of the blonde on the other end of the line but it was the only thing keeping him clued into the fact that she hadn't hung up. He waited a few more seconds before deciding he probably successfully scared her.

"You don't know what part of Ohio I live in even though you mailed me a letter?" He instantly felt like an idiot. He chuckled awkwardly before digging through the stacks of paperwork on his desk.

"That was stupid on my part. Sorry," he offered before snapping his fingers in excitement upon finding his wallet. He dug around to find the address she had given him before smiling. "Lima, Ohio."

"Why did you want to know though?" She questioned. He noticed that she sounded genuinely curious. Did he want to mention that he might be moving there? Would it sound like a stalker?

"My family was talking about a certain part of Ohio. I guess I wondered if you might be there." Quinn laughed causing him to smile. "I guess I can let you go though. I don't want to bother you?"

* * *

><p>Quinn gently lain down on her bed before looking at the ceiling, wondering how to answer his question. She didn't want to seem too eager to talk to him; she had, after all, just told him about her boyfriend. She didn't want him to hang up though.<p>

"Tell me about Tennessee," she offered instead, hoping that the subject change would give them more time to talk.

Five hours later she had learned that his family moved around a lot. He didn't like cheese unless it was on a sandwich. He had a brother and sister who he loved more than anything. His facebook page had not lied-he really wasn't in a relationship.

He had made her laugh a lot-something that was a feat when it came to her. He had been the reasons he denied Finn's five phone calls. Sam Evans had-with one phone call-changed the way she felt about everything. He had made her realize that being with Finn Hudson was not all like what being with a boyfriend should feel like.

Of course, she couldn't call Finn and break up with him just because some hot guy in Tennessee seemed to be interested in her rather than just interested in being with her. Sam listened to her talk and commented on everything she had to say. Finn simply zoned out or interrupted with talks of video games and football.

Of course one thing Sam had said had struck her as odd. He had mentioned hoping to see her soon. She wondered if that meant he would be back in Ohio for anything.

She couldn't help but wish that he would be.


End file.
